I was a very naughty dog

 Well, we're back home after another little adventure on the Shropshire Union.  I say 'little' but, for me, it was a huge adventure that I'd rather not repeat.

We set off on a damp Sunday morning heading for Beeston.  He wasn't sure how far we'd get as he's now struggling with Polymialgia and walks were going to be limited as he needed all his energy for doing the locks (although she did help and she did take me for walks).

By three in the afternoon, we'd done all six locks and the weather was dry.  We'd even seen a bit of sunshine.  We moored up somewhere familiar between Bunbury Locks and Calveley, right next to a public footpath.  They were planning a walk but I managed to escape and set off at my own pace, on the scent of pheasants.  

I could hear them calling me but the urge to catch one of those damned birds was too strong.  They hid in hedges and flew across fields.  I chased them.  I have to say, after a while I no longer heard my name but that didn't bother me as it was great fun.  There were enormous fields of grass to run round, ditches to cross, hedges to climb under and woods to explore, all the time flushing out pheasants - though never catching one.  I lost track of time.  It started to get dark and I guessed it was tea time but, by now, I couldn't hear anyone call my name and hadn't a clue where I was.  I set off back along my scent track but it went round in circles, across fields, through ditches and under hedges.  Then it started to rain.  I was exhausted but I had to keep going.  I needed food!

Hour after hour I sniffed and sought my track, afraid I might be going in the wrong direction, worried I'd never get back to the boat.  It was too dark to see, too cold and wet to stop and lie down for a rest, I just had to keep on going.  I started to whine, but hadn't the energy to bark.  I was scared.

Then, I discovered another scent.  Theirs!  I knew I must be near to the boat (or back in the marina) and kept going.  By then I was limping and cold and wet and very miserable.  They'd be worried.  They might have gone home.  

Finally I found it and, with the little energy I had left, I jumped onto the back of the boat and pushed my way into the top hatch.  Then I collapsed.  

Within seconds the door opened. I saw the warmth and light but hadn't the energy to get down the steps.  He carried me down and I found some leftovers - carrot tops! I was starving so I ate them followed by my supper while they sighed and made a fuss of me.  She rubbed some of the mud off with a towel and he gave me a drink.  Then I collapsed in my nice warm bed and slept.  Apart from going out for ... you know what... I slept till morning when they came to wake me up.

I have to say, in spite of the worry I caused them, they still fed me and, though I was aching, took me for walks and an excursion into Nantwich.  They bought me a new collar and took me to a cafe that spoils dogs.  Going back to the boat, I limped alongside them, happy to be back in the pack.

The adventure continued a bit further before we returned to Tattenhall passing that familiar countryside and going down those same six locks in pleasant, though breezy, sunshine.  

I occasionally barked at another dog or duck (showed them I was still in charge) but, most of the time, I just let them make a fuss of me.  I don't want to repeat that adventure.  Neither do they!